There we were,in the heat,the soft,but grainy sand clinging to my skin. Looked across the vast waste land of sand, waiting for the horde to show. "do you think any mums are coming today" said my sister next to me, she was fourteen,but smaller than most girls,but she was a crack shot with her favorite lever action Winchester. "of course we will see some,they will always keep coming until there is nothing living left in this god forsaken wasteland". it wasn't always like this though... me and my sister used to live normal lives until the undead came after the out break. Out here in the desert they are like mummies (hence the nick name mums)
The sun finally set,and we were growing restless,my hand laid on my .357 magnum ready for the horde to attack. "i see something " said my sister, she started to aim but she never got to see what it was. I saw my sister get ripped apart right in front of me by a mum who snuck around us. the feelings I had was a mixture of sorrow and self loathing. I should have paid attention back then.
when the rest of the horde came i was fueled with a burning hatred of sadness. There was too many of them,but I shot my way out of the barrage of mums, and ran. I sooner or later found a place to settle,but i never walked out of the town i live in now,in fear of finding my sister out there, as one of the living dead.
- by Mavis Celru |
- | Submitted on 08/02/2012 |
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